


Save the Last Dance (For Me) - Revised

by Mahoroba



Series: Avengers For Dinner [11]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Comics, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Fluff, MMMF, Moresomes, Multi, Porn With Plot, Promise, Sexy bantering, Smut, Threesomes, ass worship, mmf, revision, sheer filth, there's some fluff in here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-03 19:26:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14575959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mahoroba/pseuds/Mahoroba
Summary: A retelling of "Save the Last Dance (For Me) from Avengers for Dinner. Picks up at chapter 6.....Lots o' smut. You've been warned.





	1. I will never, never let you go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time, on "Avengers for Dinner" - 
> 
> You, an empathic mutant (whose abilities include reading people's emotions via a color aura) from the American South, have been running errands from Xavier's Mansion to The Avengers Tower for months. Along the way, you wind up in a love triangle between Clint Barton and Steve Rogers - and then a wild Tony Stark appears. After some moderate drama, you confess how you feel to Clint - but Tony, still reeling from a major pleasure bomb that you hit him with, requests a sexy favor from you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave well enough alone. 
> 
> When I'd originally written "Save the Last Dance (For Me)," I had this epic sex scene in mind - and burned out before I could write it. BUT I'M BACK AND HERE IT IS. 
> 
> Entirely up to you, kind reader, if you consider this part canon. :3

Tony’s hands weren’t as callused as Clint’s. They trembled now, running up the smooth flesh of your thighs. He paused, halfway up. Looked at you.

You were watching him with heavily hooded eyes, the calm thud of Clint’s heart resonating against your chest. His arms were loose around your waist, holding you close to him, his erection prodding against your lower back. Secure between Clint’s legs, you were stretched out luxuriously on the long couch. Tony was between your legs, steadily running his hands up from your ankles, up your calves, your knees, and settled now on your mid-thigh. He swallowed, hard.

“….You sure about this, (YN)?”

Tony’s eyes, in the darkness of the Tower, were illuminated by a light all his own. An unguarded, vulnerable Tony that shone through. You looked back at Clint. His look was that of trust, curiosity that danced on the edge of unmitigated hedonism. He turned your face to his, and smashed his lips into yours, a blistering kiss that sent warmth spiraling down into your toes. You didn’t realize that you were openly groaning into the kiss until you heard Tony exhale.

“Uh, wow.”

You snickered into the kiss. Clint eased the two of you apart, his tongue flicking out against your lips in parting. You couldn’t help the effervescent giggle that left you.

“Okay, you guys are disgusting and cute and it’s turning me on more than I thought it would. Weird.” Tony’s hands were settled on your thighs, lightly kneading the flesh. You didn’t have to use your powers to know that he ached to move his hands further up. You shifted, bumping your legs into his hands. Startled, he looked directly into your eyes, and it was like cold water. Far from the playful banter and kisses from Clint, Tony’s look was of pure heat, a fire started in the club, and one that hadn’t dulled in the weeks since. Your mouth was dry, and you found yourself at an utter loss for words. The heat that had started to pool in your stomach caused your lower lips to clench in anticipation.

None of this was missed by Clint. Rather than comment on it, he merely leaned forward, his lips ghosting past the shell of your ear. An exhale, a tickling of breath against you, before the warmth of his lips closing over your earlobe. He sucked tenderly, before letting his lips slide away, his tongue tracing the intricate whorls of your ear. Your pulse was abnormally loud, thudding in your chest, bringing warmth to your cheeks and to your rapidly dampening sex. Though you writhed in his grasp, his tongue, his lips, were as unhurried as ever, exploring your ear, the tender flesh behind it, the soft skin of your neck as it met your jawline.

“Open,” he whispered, his right hand sliding between your legs. Without a second thought, you parted your legs wider, exposing your naked sex to Tony’s eyes. The air was cool against your damp folds. A long exhale from Tony, and he looked up at you, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. His eyes drifted back to your cunt, then to your face again, biting his lower lip. You could tell he was searching for something to say - and not finding it.

“My God,” he finally exhaled. His breath was warm against your core - you could almost feel his lips ghosting across you.

The rise and fall of Clint’s chest against your back slowed; he turned your face back to his. Pressed his nose to yours - and then his lips to yours. Sighing into the kiss, it turned into a low squeal. Tony’s tongue was pressed solidly against you, dipping into your body. Insistent, his tongue delved deeper into you, his fingers splaying across your thighs. Again and again, his tongue dipped into you, your mouth otherwise occupied by Clint’s, only the smallest gasps escaping you. Clint’s tongue brushed against your lips, and you eagerly opened your mouth, in time to feel Tony’s tongue slip from out of you, along the lines of your labia to flick, ever so softly, against your clit. You pulled away from Clint now with a breathless shriek, your legs falling open wider. Clint’s erection against your lower back was rigid steel. Fumbling, you reached behind you to stroke him through his pants. He hissed, bucking his hips hard into your hand. Rolling your fingers over the length of him, you could feel the fabric strained across his head grow damp.

Rough fingers slipped from your inner thighs to draw long loops around your entrance, Tony’s head bobbing in time with the involuntary spasms of your hips, keeping his lips wrapped firm around your clit. You were cresting higher, higher, higher still -

Then Tony pulled away.

Your eyes snapped open, and your hips fell, unceremoniously, back down into the couch. Your heart was racing, the world spun before your eyes.

Tony’s face was glistening in the darkness. He licked his lips with a thoughtful look. “Honey.”

“What…?” It was getting a little easier to speak. You could feel Clint shifting behind you.

“Lift up,” Clint said, softly. As you did, he slipped from under you, careful to position you comfortably back onto the pillows. He shifted again, on his knees beside you. In the time it’d taken for him to move from supporting you to where he was now, he’d undid his pants, and his cock was out and straining in front of you, the head flushed deeply. Without thinking, you trailed your fingers along his head. He sighed, and his cock twitched into your grasp.

“Honey.” Tony repeated. “Tastes like literal honey.” He ran his fingers against your labia, featherlight. His smile was impish as he held up fingers that glistened from you. “Is that how you got your nickname, ‘Sugarbee’?” The teasing tone in his voice was enough to undo you. Beside you, Clint laughed.

“I’ll have to taste for myself,” he mused.

“Maybe if you’re good.”

“I’m always good,” Clint murmured, his gaze fixed on your lips. It would take so very, very little for you to take his cock between them, and you both knew it.

Between your thighs, Tony snorted.

“I’m sorry, when did you become the No Fun Police?” You shot Tony a glance. He caught his lower lip between his teeth as he looked up at you, and you felt your heart lurch.

_Goddamn it, he is too much._

“Oh, I’m very fun. Loads of fun. Tons of fun. Look.” His breath slipped across your sex, his lips teasingly close, brushing closer with each word. He silenced himself now by placing a loud, sucking kiss to your core, making you laugh, a short, bitten off thing, that melted into a moan as his tongue lovingly caressed your clit. His fingers were pressed against your opening, not slipping further, merely running those long circles that were driving you mad. You tried to push yourself down on his fingers - only to have him remove them at the last minute. His teeth lightly closed around your clit, and you gasped, from the slightest tinge of pain that came with the burst of pleasure. Your head tilting back, Clint shifted. When you opened your eyes, his length was right above your lips, slick from where he’d been touching himself. You tilted your head up, and the head of his cock pillowed against your lips. Flicking your tongue out, you took your first taste of him, darkly salty and smelling of him. He let out a harsh breath, reaching down to hold the base of his cock. Without a sound, he lovingly traced the shape of your lips with the head of his cock, never once pressing past your lips.

“…You have a pretty mouth,” he said, in a hush. “Been meaning to tell you that.”

“…Yeah?” Your voice was muffled, and his cock slipped down your mouth, to rest plaintively on your lower lip. With a coy look, you pursed your lips, before letting them part invitingly.

“…Yeah.” With a delicacy that was sweet, Clint nudged your lower lip, before letting his head slip between your lips. Glad that he’d finally taken the hint, you turned your head to engulf more of him into your mouth. He moaned your name, quietly, as if too loud would break the spell. The room itself was largely quiet, save for the occasional moan from you, the wet sounds of Tony lapping at your sex, his quick huffs of breath as he pulled his mouth away, only to press open, desperate kisses to your labia. Wet, slick sounds of flesh being stroked joined in, as Tony slipped a hand between his own legs.

To Clint’s credit, he didn’t instantly buck into your mouth as you steadily slipped more of him into you. He was holding still, so still that when your palms pressed into his thighs, you could feel them tremble beneath you. Not like it was easy to concentrate on Clint, not with the way Tony was teasing your clit with the very tip of his tongue, those fingers still running maddening circles around your entrance, before, mercifully, one finally slipped in, in time to Tony relentlessly lashing your clit with his tongue.

Clint’s cock throbbed in your mouth as you pulled back, dragging your tongue under his shaft. The timing couldn’t have been better - a particularly deft twist of Tony’s finger caused you to cry out, your hips rising to meet his mouth. Gently, Clint turned your head back to his cock. It pulsed against your cheek. Blindly, you opened your mouth for him again, panting as Tony unmercifully continued pushing you closer to orgasm, his groans growing louder. Rubbing your lips across Clint’s cock, you took his head in again, as Tony gently pressed a second finger into you, his lips returning to your clit to suck the bead of flesh. You whimpered, the sound muffled by Clint’s cock in your mouth. He ran his fingers through your hair, down the sides of your face.

“I don’t…I don’t have long,” he gasped, as you swirled your tongue around the fluted edge of his head.

All you could do was whine in return. Tony had been pushing you closer and closer to the edge, and his tongue was relentless against your clit, his fingers inching in slowly, spreading you. At Clint’s admission, he redoubled his efforts, pressing his fingers all the way into you, pressing down on your clit with his lips - before slipping his fingers out of you, the pressure of his lips against your clit lightening to a ghosting. Soon, you managed, in your lust addled brain, to work out a rhythm - when Tony pressed into you, you swallowed more of Clint’s cock. Just when it was starting to flow, your vision started sparking into vibrant colors around the edges, and your thrusts into Tony’s mouth and fingers grew more erratic. You sucked hard on Clint, working your face harder up and down his cock, until spit coated your lips and dribbled down your chin. One final swipe, twist of Tony’s fingers, and you tumbled over the edge, howling your orgasm, your mouth wrenching away from Clint’s cock. The sound was muffled by Clint’s swearing of your name, his cock spasming, sending jets of cum into your mouth, across your cheeks. You swallowed what you could catch, but long trails of his cum joined the spit trailing down your chin.

You nearly fell away from him, boneless in the aftermath of your orgasm. Clint leaned over you, his softening cock slipping from your lips. You panted open-mouthed now, tingling all the way through the bottom of your toes. Shakily, you reached up to run a hand through your sweaty hair, moving it away from your face. Between your legs, Tony shifted, pressing a biting kiss to each of your thighs before moving to rest on his elbows. Clint sat down heavily next to you, stumbling slightly over his pants around his ankles.

No one spoke. You were all breathing heavily, and you nestled further back into the couch, basking in the afterglow.Between your legs, Tony sat up, moving to sit behind you, and titled his head back, inspecting the ceiling. Remnants of your cum glistened in his beard, on the sides of his face. His eyes were thoughtful, weighing information. You twisted to face him, your dress still bunched around your waist.

“So…?” You were honestly curious.

“Did it work?” Clint finished. He was sitting on your left side, and moved closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder. It was all too easy to caress his hair, and he leaned further into you, kissing the side of your neck.

“Yes….and no,” Tony trailed off. “Now I’ve got another problem.”

“Yeah?” You and Clint spoke in unison, before you both started laughing. Tony mock-glared at the two of you.

“This is serious,” he huffed.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Tony,” you said, between laughter. “What’s the problem?”

“One: I need to know where the hell you got your nickname from-”

Your snort cut him off. “Tony, really? I thought you were being serious.”

“I am. And Two: That just made it worse. I need more. Need to feel you,” he turned to face you. His cock tented inside of his sweat pants.

“And I have a problem, too,” piped up Clint. “I want to see if you’re as sweet as your nickname.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cackles into the galaxy*


	2. Let him hold you tight

“Guys…” You clicked your tongue, playful. Tony’s oral ministrations still had stars dancing behind your eyelids, and you were pleasantly boneless, the sex and the events of the day rapidly catching up to you. “I dunno if I’ve got another one of those in me,” you confessed. “See?” You gestured to how bad your knees were trembling as you tried to close your legs.

Clint looked at you thoughtfully - and you could figure out what conclusion he was coming to by the way his cock slightly stiffened.

“First of all…” He was easing you down on the couch. Letting him guide you, you leaned back with a dreamy, sex-sated look on your face. His returning smile was tender, but wolfish. “I can’t let Stark have bragging rights over making my girl see stars before I even have the chance.”

Your grin turned into the stupid. He’d called you his girl.

“Second of all,” and, to your surprise, you’d realized he’d unzipped the back of your dress as he laid you down. Man was smooth. That - or you were just that out of it. “I haven’t gotten to see these….” He slipped your now loose dress free from your shoulders, down the line of your body. Realizing where he was going with this (and all too eager to help him), you sat up, then stood up, slipping out of your dress. Clad only in a strapless bra, you stood awkwardly between the two men.

“Sooo….now what?” It was hard not to be a little embarrassed - after all, you were almost naked. Clint’s pants were bunched around his ankles, but he still had on his shirt - and Tony was fully dressed in a black tank top, his cock springing out over the waist band of his sweat pants.

“Well,” Tony started, his face shining from you, “I think we’re all wearing too many clothes. What say you, Legolas?”

“Oh, I quite agree,” Clint replied in an affected British accent.

“I don’t really have much of - hey!” Just that quick, Clint had reached around and unhooked your bra in one fluid motion. Out of sheer reflex, you moved to cover your breasts, keeping your bra clasped to your chest. Clint playfully tugged at the sheer lace.

“Please?” He gave you full on puppy dog eyes, those charming, clear blue eyes your undoing. With a sigh that was much more dramatic than offended, you moved your arms. Your bra fell to the ground. Silence reigned in the Tower again - only broken by Tony’s exhale and Clint’s smitten sigh.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Tony exhaled, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “I just…”

Before he could finish, Clint was taking his shirt off, kicking off his pants as he closed the small gap between the two of you. Standing naked before you, he tilted your face up towards his.

“…I have your jizz all over my face,” you whispered, feeling the faintest flare of embarrassment.

“I don’t care.” His lips were warm and comforting against yours. A beat, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes. Your fingers carding through his short blonde hair, you started slightly as Tony came around from behind. His chest was warm against your back, his erection fitting neatly between the cleft of your butt. His lips pressed small kisses against the nape of your neck, the side of your neck, your jaw. In a flash of insight, remembering the club, you began to rock forward into Clint, moving to music only you could hear. He broke the kiss, gave you a confused look.

“Just go with it,” you supplied, your smile warm. Apparently Tony got the hint. He pulled away from your ear, and spoke.

“JARVIS. - Jamiroquai, _Automaton._ And once that's over," Tony gave you a sly, knowing look, "Start with _Emergency on Planet Earth_ and go through the whole Jamiroquai catalog."

You smiled, fighting the urge to break free from the two men and dance away. No - this time, you truly let the music speak to you. It was a different song from the club, but the groove was the same. Your body undulated easily into Clint’s - and though it took him a moment to figure out what was going on, he fumblingly joined in, his movements stiff compared to the fluidity of you and Tony. Your eyes closed, you let out a soft whine as Clint stepped away, the warmth of his body wafting away. His place was quickly taken by Tony, and, wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulled you in closer, no space between your bodies. Opening your eyes, you smiled at him, catching Clint standing behind the two of you, arms folded, a wry smile on his face.

“You fine with watching, Feathers?”

“Yeah - I got two left feet.” There was no jealousy in his voice; just a sense of wonderment.

Now, fully aware that you didn’t have to keep control, high on your recent orgasm and contented warmth of the room, you let go. If someone had told you months ago that you’d be naked, dancing with an equally naked Tony Stark, with an also naked Clint Barton watching, you would have laughed. But here you were - Tony’s body and yours speaking to each other on a different level. Turns out that he was as good as a dancer as you had initially thought- and now, sober and free from your powers, he moved unhindered. He allowed enough space between the two of your bodies so his hands could drift up your stomach, caress the full curve of your breasts. Running his fingertips against your nipples, you sucked in a breath, the jolt of pleasure startling and pure. Tony’s dark eyes flitted from his hands to your eyes, amazement there as if he was seeing you for the first time.

Soon enough, his hands were not enough - and he was dipping down in front of you, his lips a whisper against the firm nubs of your nipples. His tongue followed, curling around your right nipple before sucking it gently into his mouth. You moaned, unable to focus on the music. It continued unabated behind you, growing fuzzier as all of your senses focused on Tony’s warm mouth against you. You almost didn’t hear Clint walking closer, until you felt him pressed against your back. He was kneeling too, his tongue running along the length of your back, starting at the nape of your neck, easing lower. A wet kiss pressed to the small of your back, and then, his lips against your right cheek, then the left, his hands moving to cup your ass affectionately.

“Mmph,” he purred. “God, Sugarbee…” A hand drifted between your legs, brushed against the cleft of your sex. You sighed, and he groaned. “You’re so wet…” A shifting behind you, and a gentle nudge to your thighs. You parted your legs, only half-focused on him as Tony continued to kiss and nuzzle your breasts. From the right nipple, he moved leisurely to the left, sucking slowly as if he had all the time in the world to coax your body into pleasure. Clint’s face pressed against your ass, his tongue warm as he trailed to your sex. Effectively trapped between the two men, you could only lurch forward as Clint pressed his entire face between your legs, dipping below you. His tongue eased into you, and his audible groan as he grasped your ass felt like he was going to push you over the edge just that quick.

“Fuck, Clint,” you groaned, bucking your hips forward and nearly knocking Tony loose. Willing himself away from your hot sex, Clint looked up at you, his eyes half-hooded, his lips damp.

“You were right, Stark. Honey.” Clint slowly caressed his bottom lip with his tongue, catching your eyes again before going back to your sex again. While Tony had been precise, wielding his tongue with an incredible skill, Clint was clumsy, relishing, it would feel, in just you. His tongue traced long, lazy circles up and down your sex, caressing the plump lips of your labia, trying your opening, carefully and lightly pressing against your clit. You were hyperconscious of his reactions to you - if you moaned louder, he’d let his tongue linger. Between him and Tony focusing his very talented mouth on your breasts, your legs were starting to shake with the effort of trying to stand. Clint, for a while, had steadied you with his hands on your ass - but that was before he’d started in on you in earnest.

“Guys,” you gasped, struggling to get air into your lungs, “I can’t…I gotta sit down, do something…”

At first, you weren’t sure if they heard you - neither man moved to stop what he was doing. On the verge of breaking, your voice was nearly a sob as you spoke again. “Guys, I can’t - I have to sit down!”

“Mmh…” Clint pulled his face away from you, long strands of you clinging to his face. “I don’t think I can handle this anymore, anyway.” He gave your ass one last, lingering squeeze, and he was moving away. “Your turn to watch now, Stark,” he quipped, moving you towards the couch. Tony let go of your nipple with a soft _pop_ , his eyes sparkling.

“If it gets too good, I’m getting in,” he stepped back, allowing Clint to lead you to the couch. Your sex tightened - if this was going where you thought it was - thank fucking God. It was _about_ time.


	3. You can dance (go and carry on)

“Where do you want me?” It was coquettishly asked - you had a few ideas of where you wanted to go. From the looks of it, so did Clint. It was quiet - before Tony snorted.

“What?” you asked - though you had a pretty good idea.

“You left that wide open for an assortment of filthy jokes. For the record.” He grabbed his drink from the bar. Settling down on the edge of the couch, he primly folded his legs, his erection bobbing between them. “And I also want it to go on the record that I did take the bait.”

“Duly noted,” you smirked. “You’ll get a treat for that.”

Tony smirked, and raised his glass in a silent toast.

“Why don’t you get on the couch….and put your butt here,” Clint gestured to the edge of the couch. “That way, you’re at least on the whole thing. Gotta compliment the guy who decorated - picking out a couch that’s great to fuck on.”

“I’m touched,” Tony wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

You shook your head as you climbed onto the couch, stretching out. Clint had a point - the couch was big enough for you to easily position yourself on all fours, your ass aimed towards Clint. His face shone like he’d won the lottery. You were able to catch his expression for a moment, before he was kneeling behind you again, his lips hot against the flesh of your ass. Grasping each cheek in his hand, he gently spread your cheeks, pressing his nose against you against the delicate pucker of your anus. You started, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

“Clint,” you stammered. His grip left your rear, and he looked round the curve of your body.

“Shh…” it was a soft sound, an exhale through his teeth. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then let me take care of you.” He ran his hands reassuringly over the curve of your ass. His hands trailed further, down the lines of your thighs, then back up to your cheeks. Flustered, you bit your lower lip, your eyes flickering back to Tony. The older man seemed quite content to watch, his erection peeking over the edge of his folded legs. Though he’d lifted his glass to take a drink, his eyes were focused on you, the glass paused at his lips. Catching your eyes, he gave you a small smirk, enough for you to chuckle over. Clint’s hands had never stopped in their reassuring trail up and down your thighs and butt, pausing now and again to firmly grasp at your ass.

“God,” he groaned out. “You have the most perfect ass I have ever seen.”

The compliment warmed your face. “Baby bird,” you cooed.

“Say it again.” His breath was warm against the cleft of your ass, and, as you purred his nickname again, you let out a small yelp as his tongue ran from the bottom of your slit to the puckering of your anus. The new sensation sent a flare of heat between your legs; you could feel yourself nearly dripping from the first caress of his tongue. Who knew it’d be such a turn on?

Far from content with one lick, Clint continued to lightly massage your anus with his tongue, his fingers clenching firmly onto each cheek as he spread you further. Your soft gasps turned into loud, needy moans, and you began to push your rear back into his mouth, matching his movements. His mouth slipped lower, savoring the bottom of your slit - then he pulled away with a low growl.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he gasped out, his pupils blown wide.

“It feels so good,” you demurred, you eyelids lowering. “I never-AH!” His tongue had retuned to the cleft of your ass, a hand slipping between your legs to rub against your plump labia, your swollen clit. Back and forth, back and forth - then, his wet fingers slipped from you to grasp your ass firmly again, giving it a final squeeze as he withdrew his tongue.

Then, leaning back, he gave your ass a soft swat.

“Hey!” you yelped, unable to keep from pouting. Clint, throughly amused, leaned forward, planting a smacking kiss to each cheek.

“Couldn’t help myself. I can be nice, though. See,” he was moving towards you again, his face lowering between your legs. “I can kiss it and make it better…” Tilting his head up, his tongue slipped inside you, drawing your wetness into him. Your eyelids screwing shut, your breath left you in hard, gasping pants - his tongue continuing to tease you. Over and over, until you felt your eyes practically roll back into your head. You were so wet that you ached, your body screaming for him.

“Please,” you whimpered. “I want to feel you…”

“Fuck…” It was a drawn out groan from him, partially muffled by your cunt as he pulled away. Getting to his feet behind you, he grasped the base of his cock. Pumping it once, twice, he brushed the head of his cock against your wet, swollen lips, eliciting another cry from you.

“Fuck, Baby Bird, don’t tease me,” you whined out, wriggling your ass against the tip of his cock. “Please.”

“Don’t keep the lady waiting,” Tony’s voice was tight. His glass clinked as he set it down on the table.

“I don’t plan on it.” The blunt head of Clint’s cock pressed against you, then moved up and down your slit as he rubbed it against you, his groan growing in volume until it ended on a growl. “You’re about to cum before I can even get it in, aren’t you? You’re so fucking wet,” he purred, leaning over you. In response, you wiggled back against him. Taking your eagerness for all of the answer that he needed, Clint eased forward into you. His cock spread you wide as he pushed into you, his girth wide enough to be on the razor edge of painful. Your fingernails bit into the couch as he continued to push forward - a long, slow savoring of you around him, one that you echoed as you let out a low moan. Finally, fully engulfed within you, Clint hissed, your name harsh. He pulled his hips back, preparing to withdraw, and you reached behind you, grasping his left buttock and held him deeper within you. Your muscles flexed, stretching to accommodate him. He groaned, and ran a hand up the plane of your back. You arched your back into his touch, enjoying the gentle caress. He stayed buried in you up to the hilt, unmoving.

“…You okay…?” He sounded as if he was holding his breath.

“…Yeah…God, you’re big,” you blurted out, trying to stop yourself from blathering on. But he was - he was big, and thick, and filled you so perfectly - it was hard to believe you’d lived this long without experiencing it.

“You’re going to make me blush.” His lips were near your ear. Closing around your earlobe, he bit it tenderly, pulling his hips back. As he dragged himself out of you, you whined, your body clenching around him. He dug his fingers into your hips, squeezing them. He was holding his breath - and as he pulled out of you, pressing forward with a snap of his hips, he let it out in a grunt.

Your body accepted him with ease now, each new thrust easing a new cry from you. You grasped feebly to the back of the couch, your mouth open, a stream of nonsense flowing from you. Words weren’t enough to describe how he was making you feel, how each new stroke of his cock birthed constellations of stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Clint’s hands soothingly ran up and down the lines of your back, your shoulder blades, down your arms, his hands grasping yours, fingers interlacing briefly before he was grasping your waist, then your hips. He spoke sweet words to you - how good you felt, how long he’d wanted this, how he’d adored you for months, but didn’t know what to say or how to approach you. All of this was whispered in your ear, in pace with each steady, measured thrust from him. He was taking his time with you, pouring his feelings out in a way that he didn’t know how to express with words. And you let yourself open to him, blossoming under his affection. Awash in a wave of gentle affection, you didn’t hear Tony approach.

Beneath you, the couch cushions shifted, and you felt another hand ghost across your shoulders. Clint paused, mid-thrust, a husky chuckle.

“Couldn’t watch anymore, could you?”

“Nope.” It was a mere shadow of Stark’s bombastic confidence, a hushed plea. “(Y/N)…” Your name was whispered from him so quietly that you weren’t sure that you actually heard him. You forced your eyes half-way open, pleasure knitting your brows. Tony caught his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes glued to you. You must have looked a sight, drool easing out of the corner of your open mouth, your face creased by pleasure, remnants of Clint’s cum on your chin. Tony reached forward, ran a hand through your hair, caressing your ear and your jawline. Clint, comfortable where Tony was, began to ease out of you again. You parted your lips wide, a long sigh escaping you. It was nearly stopped short by Tony’s cock running across your lips, smearing them with the salt taste of his precum. With a knowing smile, you opened your mouth wider, welcoming him with a stroke of your tongue.

“That’s it…” He eased the head of his cock into your mouth. Wrapping your lips firmly around it, you sucked him further into your mouth, swallowing half of his length with ease. His hand grasped your shoulder, knocking Clint’s out of the way.

“Hey,” said the archer, sliding his hand down to the dip of your waist. “Rude.”

As you swallowed more of Tony’s length, Clint received a long grunt in response. Taking that as his signal, Clint slipped back into you, pushing you to take more of Tony’s cock. Quicker than before, the three of you slipped into an easy, calm rhythm - Clint thrusting into you as you took in Tony’s cock, so far that his pubic hair tickled your nose, Clint pulling out, and you eased off of Tony’s cock, taking in a deep breath as you did so. Clint’s tender ministrations had worked you down from the edge of your orgasm, and now, between the two of them, surrounded by the warmth of their hands, the steady sound of their voices, you were cresting higher and higher, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure. This is where you felt you belonged - between these two men, surrounded by their affection, by the depths of their feelings. Somehow, inexplicably, you could sense their emotions flowing back into you, energies flowing between the three of you, a never-ending flow of each other. You lost track of who was who, the two men mingling within your body and slipping back out of you, in tact and more whole than they’d ever been before. You soothed and were soothed with each stroke from them. From behind your closed eyelids, a faint pink light eased from them.


	4. Baby don't you know I love you so (Can't you feel it when we touch)

Steve couldn’t sleep.

 

For once, it wasn’t due to nightmares, of recalling plunging into the eternal ice and darkness. He’d awoken, not with a jerk, but gradually. A tickling in the back of his brain, easing him carefully into consciousness. He sat awake now, blankets wadded about his waist. Glancing over to the clock, the faint glowing blue numbers made him grimace. It was far too late and too early to be awake. Leaning against the headboard of the bed, he tilted his face upwards and sighed.

 

(Y/N) had been something else at the dance.

 

She’d moved so easily, with such grace – and that smile. It was enough for him, as much as he was loathe to admit it, wonder if he’d stepped back entirely too easily. _At what point_ , whispered a little voice, _are you going to consider your own happiness instead of someone else’s?_

 

He didn’t know the answer to that.

___

 

Maybe grabbing something from the kitchen would help him sleep.

 

The elevator door dinged open. The first thing he noticed was the music; it was “funk,” Tony had told him. Though Tony typically listened to what Steve considered noise on a good day, he’d noticed that the billionaire had started listening to this “funk” a lot more often. Steve was still trying to get the hang of it; it didn’t flow the same way that he was used to hearing. Though that meant less and less as the days went by. In that same split second, he’d recalled you explaining the genre, too –

 

 _Prince is like, the Purple King of Funk,_ you’d exclaimed, that light he’d come to adore so sparking in your eyes, _It’s music you wanna dance and fuck to._ You both had turned red at that – and you’d backpedaled, trying to find a more family friendly explanation of what that meant.

 

The second thing he noticed, over the sound of music, was the sound of something wet – like slapping a rag against a countertop. Then he heard _it_.

 

A gasping, shuddering moan (which he knew would creep into his dreams for years after), joined by two deeper counterparts. A pregnant pause; the wet, slapping sound growing louder, more erratic. The air crackled, a thread snapping, and a muffled cry from you, hiccupping, before your voice rang out, clear as a bell, wailing in pleasure. It echoed in the living room, louder than the easy bass of the music overheard. Before your voice could fade away, two distinctly masculine voices joined yours – one low, nearly sobbing in relief, the other, a long, contented sigh of your name.

 

He wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t as surprised as he probably should have been when he turned the corner, and saw you, naked, on all fours, on the couch. Clint was behind you, just as naked, and what could only be Tony had his back to Steve - and he was naked as well. As Tony pulled away, even in the half-light of the living room, Steve could see long trails of cum trailing down your cheeks and lips as delicate as tears. Clint’s torso shining with sweat, his hands grasping your hips as if his life depended on it. He looked up, and spotted Steve immediately.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Tony was quicker to react than you were, whirled, his cock still semi-erect. “Fuck,” he echoed, caught between a laugh and a sigh.

 

“Wh…” your voice was soft, dreamy – slightly worn at the edges from your earlier cries. Then, as your vision steadied, you saw what Clint and Tony had. A million reactions ran through your mind; so many that you couldn’t properly react. Clint, in an effort to maintain some order, slipped out of you. His cum gushed warm from you, coating your thighs, and, despite all of the ways you should have probably reacted, you ended up sighing, completely content, and flopping down bonelessly on the couch. Laying on your stomach for a few moments, you leisurely rolled over to your back, trailing a hand down your damp breasts and trembling stomach.

 

Both Tony and Clint looked at you in surprise.

 

“What?” you managed, your brain still adrift.

 

“I…erm…” Steve stammered. He had no idea why he hadn’t immediately left. “I…”

 

“Let’s face it, Captain,” Tony started, folding his hands primly over his cock, “This is probably not the worst thing you could have seen me do.”

 

Despite yourself, you snorted – before laughing, sitting up on the couch. You thought maybe sitting up would ease the laughter – it didn’t. Looking at Tony, who did not have a shred of shame on his face, and Clint, who looked like the child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and the sheer incredulity (and absurdity) of the situation – you just laughed harder, tears coming to your ears.

 

“….I think she’s lost it,” mused Clint, softly, moving to sit beside you on the couch.

Thoughtfully, he’d reached down and retrieved your dress, draping it over your shoulders. Then, as an afterthought, he picked up the bunched fabric of his pants and laid them across his lap.

 

“No…” you said, gasping as you struggled to speak, “This is just…I can’t….” And you were in hysterics again, your sides beginning to ache.

 

“So, Steve,” Tony started, shuffling sideways to the couch and nearly tripping over his own shirt in the process, “There’s an explanation for this.”

 

Steve was glued to the spot – and even in the darkness, you could see how red he was.

 

“…I’m not sure if I want to hear it,” Steve finally ground out. You didn’t need your powers to tell he was a jumble of emotions: confusion, anger, surprise, disbelief, lust. The latter was enough to stop your laughter cold.

 

At the sudden stop, both Clint and Tony looked at you.

 

“…Whoa,” Clint breathed. “Y/N? Your eyes are all…” he gestured near his face, waving his fingers.

 

“Glowy,” finished Tony.

 

You blinked, rapidly. Crap. You shook your head slightly, trying to clear it. The amount of lust that was coming from Steve was shocking; like being hit by a brick wall. You hadn’t expected it, not under everything else that he was projecting. But…hadn’t that been half of the problem with you and Steve to begin with – you always assuming he was something better, bigger than a normal human?

 

“I, erm…” you trailed off, rubbing your eyes now. “Sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to – there’s just… a lot to process right now.” You pulled your dress more around your shoulders. “Steve…”

 

He still stood there, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

 

“We, uh, should give you two a minute,” Tony, surprisingly, offered, getting to his feet. With a quick shuffle step, he was back in his sweatpants (how he’d found them so quickly was a mystery). “Come on, Feathers.” Before Tony had even finished speaking, Clint was up, fumbling to pull his own pants on.

 

“No – I want to hear this. From all of you,” Steve finally spoke, as if he didn’t trust his own voice.

 

All three of you stopped, nearly gaping at Steve. Steve had taken a few steps further into the living room, forcing himself to relax his hands. “Please,” he added, softer, a small undercurrent of pain there.

 

It nearly broke you. You sucked in a sharp breath.

 

You weren’t the only one who Steve’s voice affected. Clint swallowed hard. Tony rubbed his brow; licked his lips.

 

“It started at this club,” Tony began.

 

____

 

“…And things just progressed from there,” you said, with some finality that you didn’t entirely feel. It felt like a poor explanation of what happened, but in all honesty, it was the absolute truth. You were back on the couch, still gloriously, deliciously naked, the self-conscious aspect of it having fled quite some time ago. A small part of you was screaming that maybe, just maybe, you should have at least gotten dressed, but there was a strange sense of comfort now, an unspoken bond between you, Clint, Tony, and Steve. Steve, for his part, had listened quietly, only the slightest twist of his lips betraying his feelings.

 

Steve sat back now, running a hand over his face. “Didn’t you say that once you told someone about your powers, they no longer affect them?” His voice was cool, logical. It stung, but you understood why he needed to sound like that.

 

“Yeah – I mean, that’s how it’s always worked in the past. Why?”

 

Steve’s face colored.

 

And your curiosity was piqued.

 

“Steve,” you ventured, gently, “Don’t tell me…”

 

“To be fair,” Tony suddenly spoke up, “I don’t think her powers would make you be turned on, if that’s what you’re feeling. You walked in on the middle of a threesome. I think even the Pope would be a little hot under the collar if he saw that. I mean, three, incredibly attractive people, in the throes of passion-”

 

“Tony, please,” you snapped, your drawl coming out to make it sound harsher than you meant it to, “Don’t be a horse’s ass.”

 

“I mean, he has a point, though,” Clint added. “If that’s what you’re feeling, Rogers.”

Steve’s face darkened, and he looked away, shyly. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at you, Tony, and Clint, then, his eyes focused on you. They narrowed a bit, before he leaned back.

 

“Your eyes are glowing,” he said, softly. “Does that mean…”

 

Dammit. You thought that the warmth would go away. You sighed. “Well, shoot.”

 

“What? You mean to tell us you hit us with another whammy?” Tony’s voice was sharp, but not unkind. “Honeybee, I can’t keep doing this. The mind is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

 

“ ‘Honeybee’?” You and Clint said in unison.

 

“ ‘Honeybee,’ and you know damn well why,” Tony’s response was salacious, and he turned his heated look on you. Your face burned.

 

“Okay, well,” you sputtered, “Be that as it may-”

 

“Listen to you, my little Southern fried peacekeeper.” Tony narrowly avoided getting whacked as you swung at him. To be fair, it was only a half-hearted swing at best.

 

“Be that as it may,” you started over, grounding it out in warning for Tony to please keep his mouth shut, “I didn’t think it was possible. I can typically feel when I’m using my power. It’s supposed to be a conscious choice now,” your voice grew small as your doubts began to double. What if all of that training you’d done with Jean and Betsy wasn’t working? Were you just that much of a failure? You thought you’d had it under control! And they weren’t supposed to be affected by your powers anymore; the spell had been broken. Panic crept in, and you felt your eyes cooling, responding to the shift in emotion.

 

Clint, ever observant, quickly pulled you close to him, pressing your face against his chest. In a moment, your senses were filled with him; the smell of his sweat, the faint lingering of some patchouli cologne, his voice, murmuring soft endearments into your hair, your ear. You closed your eyes with a long sigh, your arms wrapping around him. As your breathing evened out, he bundled you closer.

 

The music continued, unabated.

 

“Guys…” Clint’s voice was soft above you, “I don’t think she’s using her powers.”

 

“…I don’t either,” added Steve. “But Tony, realistically, you’d be the one among us to know for sure. What do you think?”

 

Tony was quiet. You didn’t have to see him to know that he was looking at you, studying the lines of your body. “….I don’t think she is. And I think I can prove it.”

 

“How?” Your voice was muffled, and so sudden that it took you longer than it should have to realize that you’d actually spoken.

“Easy. Captain, would you like to kiss me?” You jerked away from Clint, your eyes flaring with that muted pink as you looked at Tony incredulously.

 

“What? Tony, no.” Steve’s face spoke volumes.

 

Tony lifted his arms triumphantly. “There’s the proof. If she’d hit us with one of those orgasm waves, seriously, we wouldn’t be able to keep our hands off of each other. The fact that we can sit here and string a sentence together is proof of that. I think,” and he leered playfully at Steve, “Captain Rogers here still has the hots for Honeybee.”

 

You looked at Steve, surprise etched on your face. Clint’s arms loosened around you. You looked up at Clint. He looked down at you, with that hangdog smile of his.

 

“I can’t blame him if he does,” Clint spoke. “I…”

 

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” Steve said, abruptly, as he stood. “This has been…I’m sorry,” he repeated, words failing him. “I-”

 

“Steve,” you slipped easily from Clint’s grasp, standing. You didn’t have far to walk; Steve being situated on the couch opposite the one you were sitting, “There’s nothing to apologize for.” You crouched by his side, and put a hand across his broad shoulders. His skin was warm beneath his thin shirt, and he turned to look at you. His face was questioning, searching. Asking silently for permission.

“…I think we’re all consenting adults here,” Clint spoke up, sounding thoughtful. “And…”

 

“We should continue where we were interrupted? Feathers, that’s the best idea I think you’ve ever had,” chimed in Tony. “Honeybee?”

 

You blanched – caught between being horrified, and absolutely thrilled. You settled on glaring at Tony. “Tony,” you hissed, your hand tightening on Steve’s back, “For fuck’s sake.”

 

“Oh, don’t play so coy with me,” Tony sighed. He tapped his chest. “They work both ways, your powers. I know what I saw.”

 

Now it was Clint’s turn to look at you, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “Oh?”

 

You were quite sure you were about to melt into the floor from mortification. Then, taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself. “I’m only human,” you snapped, “and goddamn it, y’all are some hot, amazing, sweet men. Does a bear shit in the woods? Of course I’ve thought about it!”

 

“Well,” Tony was kicking off his sweatpants, “That settles that, as far as I’m concerned. Feathers?”

 

Clint’s grin was slow and made your stomach burn. “I don’t think you have to ask.”

 

“Steve?” Tony was expectant, his brows raised.

 

“...I won’t be offended if you say ‘no’ and leave,” you said, soothingly, rubbing Steve’s back. He caught your hand, and looked deep into your eyes. The question from before slipped away, replaced with a resolve that made your knees weak. He cupped the sides of your face with his palms, a distant memory of the kiss outside of the movie theater all that time ago, and pulled you into him. His lips were hot against yours, molding to your mouth perfectly, before his tongue flicked against it. With a sigh, your lips parted, and his tongue met yours, lashing against it fiercely, with the energy of a man long denied.

 

Your knees were actually shaking by the time he pulled away to gasp for air, his grip keeping his forehead against yours.

 

“Show me,” he breathed, heavily. “Show me how to make you scream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKERS.


	5. I love you oh so much

Steve’s lips were soft, a direct contrast to the heat in his touch. Above the two of you, the music continued, funk dissolving into the smooth grooves of Jamiroquai’s first albums. His hands were deceptively smooth and large. He kept your face cradled within his grasp, tender, breaking his kisses only to allow the two of you space to breathe. After the initial firecracker of that first kiss, they’d grown calmer, though no less heated.

 

His forehead against yours, his lips ghosted across yours. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel him smiling.

 

“…So what now?” His voice was a low purr, his hands drifting down to the sides of your neck.

 

“I dunno, Cap. Seems to me if I had such a hot number in my arms, I’d keep smooching her.”

 

“…Thank you, Tony,” you sighed, twisting your lips in annoyance. “What’s going on with you guys, anyway?” You were loathe to open your eyes, to shake the warmth that was rapidly rising in your stomach, but Tony’s voice had torn through it like tissue paper. But….you’d also be lying if you didn’t think that an audience would be appealing.

 

Steve let out a soft chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. You smiled, rubbing your forehead against his.

 

“I, erm…” his stammering was back, a soft secret shared between the two of you. “I didn’t think we’d have an audience.”

 

“So you’ve thought about this?” You had to stop yourself from squealing. Didn’t that _just_ beat all. Your eyes were open now, eagerly watching his face. His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, before looking back at you.

 

“How did you put it earlier? ‘Does a bear shit in the woods’?”

 

Hearing Steve swear was surprisingly warming - and humanizing. You laughed, and leaned forward, lightly pecking his lips. His smile was warm.

 

“You want us to leave?” Leave it to Clint to break the silence - and to be the most thoughtful. You looked back at the other two men. Tony had taken up residence in his chair again, drink in hand, looking quite relaxed. Clint was on the opposite couch, leaned back, an eye lazily turned towards the two of you.

 

“I think…it might be more awkward if you guys did leave. At least Clint,” you ventured, in deference to what was happening. Which, wow. It seemed since you’d first come clean to Clint earlier in the evening, everything had snowballed at a rate you’d never imagined happening. And now, you were quite unsure how to handle everything. A part of you wondered if you hadn’t actually hit them with some sort of unknown power of yours. They were all so…chill about it.

 

“…This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, isn’t it?” It was your first thought - and one that was quickly dashed by all of their reactions.

 

“Oh, God, no - I mean, yeah, it is the first time something like this has happened-”

 

“Weird coincidence-”

 

“Hey, you were the one that blasted me with your power at the club-”

 

“Okay, okay,” you held up your hands, in mock defeat. “It’s just…everyone’s so calm about this. It’s weird.”

 

“Or maybe we’re all just adults. It was a possibility, a slim one, mind you, but a possibility that something like this might have happened if I went ahead with my idea.”

 

You were tempted to scoff - Tony being anything close to an ‘adult’ was laughable-, but you held your tongue. Apparently more conversations had gone on than you were privy to. And, well - shit. You were overthinking it.

 

“You’re overthinking it,” Clint said, softly, as if reading your thoughts. “I’ll be right here. Stark?” The last, with a louder tone, to ensure that the older man had heard him.

 

“Hm? Oh, yeah. You two be adorable and filthy and whatever else. There’s no way I’d miss this. Though weird that I’d even be into it to begin with.”

 

Before you could said something smart, Steve’s lips found yours again, and this time, the urgency was back. He nudged you down onto the couch, his hands drifting from the side of your face to your neck. As your back made contact with the couch cushions, you looked up at him, eyes bright. He looked down at you, and within the muted light of the living room, his pupils were large, the look on his face indescribable.

 

“Where do I even start…” His voice was quiet, a hint of uncertainty there. “I..” You reached up; placed a finger over his lips.

 

“There’s no rush. No pressure,” you slipped further beneath him, letting your arms drape around his neck. “We have all the time in the world.”

 

His returning smile was reassured.

 

There wasn’t much time for you to savor it. His lips were against yours again, his tongue gently probing the part in your lips. Opening your mouth in return, his tongue brushed against yours, his hands trailing down your sides, luxuriating in the feel of your skin. Down the dip of your waist, the smooth width of your thighs. From the outside of your thighs, his hands roamed inwards. A momentary hesitation, then, he parted them. A muffed groan from you, and his hands continued their exploration of your inner thighs. A shift, and his hand pressed lightly against the cleft between your legs. Without breaking the kiss, his finger slipped back and forth across your damp labia. A crook of the digit, and his finger slipped, tentatively, inside of you.

 

You squeaked into his lips, breaking the kiss to look deep into his eyes. He looked down at you, a shy smile on his face. And, without breaking eye contact, he slipped his finger deeper into you. Against your leg, you could feel his cock swelling.

 

“So wet,” he purred, his eyes drifting from your eyes to between your legs. He leaned down, his chest pressing against your breasts. His lips were close to your ear, and with a long, satisfied sigh, he cooed, “Tell me how to make you scream. Is it like this…?” He quirked his finger deep within you, rubbing against a spot that sent sparks flaring behind your eyes. You let out a shuddering whimper, your body arching into the movement of Steve’s finger. He was grazing that spot within you maddeningly slow, and your hips were bucking involuntarily into him. You could feel yourself dripping around him, and your brows knit. You needed more - and Steve seemed quite content to keep you right there, teetering on the edge.

 

His confidence now was a far cry from the shyness that he’d shown at the dance. Steve was _quite_ comfortable with your body, and as he leaned over, his lips brushing against your earlobe, he wasn’t shy at all about letting you know that. His hands played over your skin with a familiarity that made you squirm underneath him. From the side of your neck, the hand not occupied with fingering you agonizingly slow, drifted across your stomach. Your stomach fluttered as his fingers slipped across it.

 

As you sighed, your body arching into his touch, the soft groans of Clint and Tony were a million miles away. Steve’s face was buried in the side of your neck, tenderly sucking love marks into your flesh, sealing each one with a slow swipe of his tongue.

 

Struggling to snap yourself out of the revelry of Steve, you reached between your bodies, your fingers grazing across the fluted head of his cock. He was ready; his cock twitched as you touched it, a muffled groan slipping from him as he sucked harder on your neck. Your fingers splayed across his cock, smearing the beads of weeping precum across his head, and your mouth ached to take him. Stroking him as leisurely as he was fingering you, his hips and yours blindly thrusting towards one another, seeking out the touch to end the teasing. He shifted above you, the firm length of his cock pressed against your sweat-slicked belly, and, seeing your opportunity, you let go of him, and reached down to grab his wrist. He looked down at you, the faintest hint of surprise, before it was quickly replaced with sultry knowing. Without a word, he lifted himself slightly. The head of his cock jutted proudly at you, and you grinned, fighting the urge to take him in your mouth. You’d waited long enough.

 

Slipping higher up on the couch under him, you gave him a coy look, biting down on your lower lip. His breath hitched; his hooded blue eyes widening. Then, a return of that shy smile that was so goddamn endearing that it made you want to squeal. As he began to lower himself, you parted your legs, welcoming him. As he positioned himself with a slow grace, time seemed to still, the only constant was the dull thudding of your heart in tune with the faraway music. You could feel the warmth behind your eyes as Steve looked down at you, leaning forward to capture your lips with his, at the same time thrusting forward. The head of his cock parted your folds with ease, slipping inside of you with a muted stretch. He eased into you so gently that it was only when he finally bottomed out with a dull pulse of pain that you realized he was thicker and longer than Clint. Feeling him seated so deeply inside of you, you let out a long whine that you didn’t know you’d been holding back. It was answered by a reassuring purr from him against your closed lips, before he lifted his head just so that your foreheads were touching. You could see the warm light flowing from your eyes in your reflection in his eyes, but you didn’t think to question it. There was no need to now. Like a blanket pulled over the entirety of the room, you felt at peace – could feel it resonating in Steve, in Tony, in Clint. All of the rough edges, nightmares, doubts – they were a million miles away, forgotten.

 

“…You okay?” Steve’s voice was in your ear, all around you, and yet, nowhere at once. Vaguely, you nodded, your head feeling like it was underwater. Not an unpleasant feeling, but it had the distinction of feeling like it was happening to someone else. You were caught up in the ever higher arching bands of color, pink, purple, red – adoration, lust, love, all tangling about you and through you, emanating from you and from Clint and Steve and Tony, so much so that even Steve, this close to you, was washed out in waves of warmth.

 

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” you sighed, feeling him throb within you, outside of you, his heart beating in turn with your own, with the music. “Can you feel it?” You reached up with shaking hands to caress the sides of his face. He placed a kiss to each of your palms, his hazy eyes searching yours. The momentary ache of accepting him had vanished, curled into the bands of color around you.

 

“Your eyes…” he breathed, quietly. “They’re…” He trailed off, touching his nose to yours. That Steve – somehow, you’d always been able to communicate with him better without words. He tilted his chin up; kissed your forehead.

 

And began to move.

 

Lazy bands of color snapped, crackled – turned into sparks, then fireworks. Each thrust within you brought a new intensity to their color, a deepening. Pink blossomed into red, red into a hue so deep you could drown in it, a love so deep, so pure, you’d never experienced anything like it. It quite swept you away, until the feeling that Steve was stirring within your body was a shadow of an afterthought, near impossible to comprehend, as sweet, as deep as it was. Every stroke brought you closer to something shining, just beyond your reach – something that was wonderful, but you were in no hurry to run to. Outside of the realm of the senses, you could hear, faintly, the heavy breathing of Clint and Tony, strained, hesitant. As if they were just as lost as you, and terrified of scaring the magic away. Somewhere, dimly, you were aware to clinging to Steve, your legs around his waist, your fingernails digging into his back as his thrusts increased, rattling you against the couch, your breasts bouncing roughly against his chest. Colors threaded back into your flesh, heightening every cell, until, suddenly, it was entirely too much – and you simply _exploded_. The fireworks became supernovas, each new flare of light, a heightened level of orgasm. You were screaming, crying out until your voice tore itself to shreds, the pleasure so intense that darkness gathered in the corners of your eyelids, sweeping over the galaxies of color until they finally took over. The last thing that you felt, between the starbursts, was the echo of Steve’s voice, crying out your name, and him, gloriously him, spilling into your body until he leaked from you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Someone was calling your name. There was a sense of urgency, of panic, that sliced through the warm red world you’d fallen into. Strange. Your eyes were closed – you could feel that they were – but instead of black, all you could see was red, flickers of pink and purple flitting about like pale butterflies.

 

Slowly, you opened your eyes, forcing reality back. Outside, the night was giving birth to a watery gray dawn, light tiptoeing through gray clouds. Above you, three concerned faces loomed like earthbound stars. Before you could fully register who they were, you were surrounded by arms, and the fragrance of sex, old cologne, the long, deep whisper of masculine body odor beneath it all. Voices suddenly returned to full volume, words tripping over one another.

 

“Wait, wait,” you held up a shaking hand. “One at a time.” Your voice was barely above a hoarse whisper; anything more made you grimace in pain. “What happened?”

 

“You passed out,” said Steve, caressing your knees.

 

“What?!” The shock you felt was subdued by your lack of voice.

 

“Yup. You were out cold,” came Clint’s voice from behind you. It took you a moment to realize that you were in his lap, Steve crouched in front of you, Tony to the right of you. Somehow, all four of you were crammed onto the couch. No wonder you’d felt surrounded.

 

Craning your neck to look at Clint’s face, you blinked rapidly. “Passed out?” you croaked. It wasn’t the first time that you’d done something like that – but it was the first time that you had without extreme use of your powers.

 

“Yeah; freaked us all out. I had JARVIS run a scan of you – you’re in tip top health. Cap, I think you won this round,” Tony dramatically sighed. “I’ve never made a girl cum so hard she passed out.” He held a glass of water in his hand.

 

Steve’s face was as red as an apple. Despite yourself, you laughed, the sound a weak croak. Clint helped you up, his arms settled about your waist, his hands resting comfortably on the swell of your stomach.

 

“I’m not sure if that’s all it was,” Steve said, shifting. Taking the hint, you moved your legs, and Steve clambered onto the couch next to you. He placed his hand on your forehead, and you wrinkled your nose impishly. “You don’t have a fever – but right before you passed out, your eyes just…” He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, clearly searching for the right words. “They got…I don’t know; I’ve never seen anything like it.”

 

“Let me guess,” you whispered, “they turned colors. Pink, red, purple?”

 

Steve shared a surprised look with Clint and Tony.

 

“Yes….how did you know?”

 

“I didn’t.” You swallowed. Gah. Even that hurt. Picking up on your expression, Tony held the glass of water to your lips. Too grateful to even wonder how he’d gotten a hold of it so quickly, you drank deeply. After you’d downed half the glass, you took in a deep breath. Your throat was still fried, but it hurt much less than a few moments ago. Progress. “I…guys, I think…”

 

“Yeah,” said Tony, sitting down to your right. “I think we all felt it.”

 

“Fuck. I thought you guys were immune-” Before you could start apologizing profusely, Clint gave you a soft squeeze.

 

“I think we are,” Tony quickly supplied. “I think this was something entirely different. I could…” He bit the inside of his cheek, his expression hardening.

 

“It’s like you tore down a wall,” said Steve, softly. “I don’t think I saw the same thing…but I felt it.” He gave Tony a long, steady glance. Tony, catching something in Steve’s expression that you did not, nodded gravely.

 

“Feedback loop,” you stammered. It was the club all over again. Dread pooled in your stomach.

 

Tony must have sensed your panic, for he started shaking his head. “No. It wasn’t like what I got hit with before. I was still me - I still _felt_ me. This was…” He drummed his fingers against his thighs, looking away. “This was different. This was..”

 

“All of the good things in life. Like, literally, the best way you could feel about anyone at any given time. Puppy love and the first kiss and ice cream on a hot day.” Clint was resting his chin on your head, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he spoke. “The biggest shot of happy juice anyone ever could get.” He lightly turned your head towards his, and kissed you, lightly. In that kiss, you felt everything.

 

Oh, it had been your power, all right – just in a way that you’d never thought possible. Your shields had dropped, but so had theirs – and in those moments, no, the entire night, had been steadily chipping away at them until that moment, when everything had fallen and everyone was laid bare. They knew how you felt as much as you knew how they felt – and no one had to say a single word. It had settled into your bones, into their skin, as simple as saying that the sky was blue. The sex -incredible as it was-, had only served to kick that final door down.

 

You leaned back into Clint, your eyes settling closed again as you searched your own feelings.

 

No.

 

This process hadn’t just _started_. It’d been set in motion months ago, the day you first set foot in the Avengers Tower. And through each of them, through your own uncertainties, your power had lead you through it all, to them, and you’d grown. Behind your closed eyelids, a never-ending field of gold, of deep trust, threaded between all of you.

 

“Guys…” You didn’t know what to say. Your eyes still closed, you barely felt the warm tears spilling from them, glittering. You opened your eyes as Clint tenderly wiped them away. Clint’s expression was one of protection; of comfort. A little boy smile, eagerly returned as you found yourself smiling back at him. Clint’s grin grew wider, and you shared a shy look with Steve. The blonde returned it, the lines of his shoulders more relaxed than you’d ever seen them. Sneaking a peek at Tony, you were only moderately surprised to realize that he was looking back at you, fixedly, as if you were the most marvelous thing he’d ever seen.

 

A comfortable silence settled – before it was broken by the loud growl of Clint’s stomach.

 

“So…breakfast?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....Guys it was so hard writing the Steve sex scene. Like HOW DO. Hopefully it's not trash.


	6. So don't forget who's taking you home

Breakfast had started as a modest affair.

“Modest” by Tony Stark standards, anyway. It’d started simply enough, with the four of you standing around, still quite naked, as Tony went through a veritable rolodex of restaurants. By the time he’d read off the 15th place, it was clear to you that no one’s heart was really in ordering out. 

 

With a mockingly insulted sigh, you threw your hands up after the 17th name.

 

“Why don’t I just make something?”

 

“Honeybee, that is an excellent idea. So excellent I almost want to take credit for it myself,” and Tony had tossed the menus aside.

 

You’d rolled your eyes, chuckling as you moved into the kitchen. After that, it was, well, a breakfast. Small talk, chill music in the background, you making sure that you’d made enough (it was one thing when you were compensating for Steve’s metabolism - it was quite another cooking for two apparently starved men on top of that), you eating and savoring and trying your best to ignore the occasional heated glance. Were they _trying_ to kill you? You’d only just regained the ability to walk in a straight line without wobbling everywhere.

 

“Well, I’m just going to say it,” Tony mumbled around a mouthful of biscuits and gravy, “First of all, how dare you hold out on me for these biscuits because they are perfection, and second of all - I’m ready for round two.”

 

Thinking back on it - though it was difficult in your current position - that had been the start of these events.

 

“Breathe,” Steve’s voice was throaty, his hand caressing your throat. You barely had time to suck in a gasping breath before he thrust lightly back into your mouth, his hand rubbing along the lines of your neck, his eyes hooded, the smallest of smiles on his face. “Look at that,” he lovingly sighed. He slowly withdrew, his cock dragging against every surface of your throat, your mouth, your lips. You sucked in another breath, one that was cut off by a shrill yelp as Tony thrust into your cunt hard. His thrust was a counter to Clint’s slow pulling out of your ass, his hands locked around your waist, holding you close to him.

 

You’d lost track of what color your eyes were supposed to be a long, long time ago.

 

You were lost within the realm of senses, the sharp edge of pleasure that came from Clint’s measured easing into your ass, savoring every bit of you, of Tony’s eager thrusts into your cunt, as if he were desperately making up for lost time, and Steve’s slow, careful domination of your throat, the amazement in his eyes as he watched you eagerly swallow every inch he offered. Every time your eyes were jolted open, Steve, Clint, Tony - they were only bodies of color, only their eyes remaining the same, blue and brown in clouds of pink, purple, red. When your orgasm came, it was softer, gentler than the world shattering of before. Not to say that it was any less intense - the world flickered into supernovas of color, your voice joining the chorus of Clint’s, Steve’s, and Tony’s.

 

Now, basking in the afterglow, you laid sprawled across the table, your labia glistening, your chest heaving as you came down. Clint was still under you, holding you close. Tony, trembling against you, slowly withdrew, and you grinned as his cum trailed hot down your leg. Steve, with one last fond stroke of your neck, slipped from your lips. You placed a clumsy kiss to his head, and he laughed, pushing sweaty hair from your eyes. Beneath you, Clint shifted, scooting his butt further down the table. Surprised, you clung to him, your arms fumbling to wrap around his neck.

 

“I gotcha,” he whispered in your ear. He shifted you, then picked you up, bridal-style, as if you weighed nothing. With his feet on the ground, he delicately lowered you to the floor. Standing on tip toes, you gave him a soft hug, before letting go.

 

“So…” you trailed off, letting your tongue settle against the roof of your mouth, “I’m going to get dressed before I end up not being able to walk.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Believe it or not, you were left to shower and dress in peace. As you walked out of one of the spacious bathrooms and back into the living room, you could see why. Apparently Clint, Tony, and Steve had opted to shower as well, if their wet hair was any give away.

 

“Well, this’ll be fun to explain to Logan,” you snarked, deciding to leave your hair down. There was no telling where all of the bobby pins had gone to, and you weren’t feeling patient enough to try and loop your tresses back into the Victory roll style you had it in the night before. You sat down on the couch, kicking your feet up. Clint quickly followed, sitting down behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, his chin resting on top of your head.

 

“Even after a shower?” he asked, his chin digging into your crown.

 

“Yup,” you said, patting Clint’s hands. “Super senses. But that’s assuming I’ll even run into him. I figured I’d probably end up going back home, change, sleep for a million years. You know, the usual.”

 

Clint chuckled. “Should I come by later?”

 

“Baby Bird, I just fed you.”

 

“Yeah, but,” and he craned his head around to fix you with puppy dog eyes.

 

“Oh, no. If Honeybee’s cooking again, she’s going to do it here, for all of us. Isn’t that right, Cap?”

 

Steve, resplendent in a gray shirt and navy blue sweats, held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. “(Y/N) can do whatever she wants. But,” the last part, boyish shy, “I wouldn’t mind if you came by again. More often,” he added.

 

“I’d be okay with that too, actually,” Tony was at the bar in the kitchen, drinking a glass of what looked to be swamp mud from where you were sitting. Something thick, green, and viscous. The dining habits of the ridiculously rich would continue to baffle you. He was in a beat up t-shirt, and oil spattered jeans.

 

“So…” you ventured, before deciding to jump in, “Tony, how are you feeling?”

 

“Uh, like I just had the most mind blowing sex of my life.”

 

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Out of my system. Though,” he leered at you playfully, “I’m always down if you want to hit me again with one of those whammies. Now that I know what to expect. But I’m a big boy - I don’t wanna get between whatever sugar sweet thing you got with Rogers and Barton. But,” his voice took on a more serious note. “Your eyes have seriously not stopped that glowing thing since the first round.”

 

Huh. You reached up; touched the corners of your eyes. Your vision had returned, the world back to normal, but you could feel flickering heat. “Weird. I can’t even feel it anymore. Well, as long as it’s not hurting you guys, I’m not gonna worry about it.”

 

“…It may not be a good idea for you to be in public like that,” Steve said, thoughtfully - then flushed. “Not that you shouldn’t be seen-”

 

You laughed, tickled by Steve’s sweetness. “I know what you meant. And you may be right. One of Hank’s theories is that I can low-level leak if I’m happy - and lemme tell y’all: I’m about over the moon and then some,” you sighed into your drawl. “Maybe I should hang out here for a few more hours, until things go back to normal?”

 

Steve’s smile rivaled the sun. “I think that’s a good idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's probably going to be an epilogue because I just realized I left a lot of stuff hanging and THAT JUST WON'T DO.


	7. Epilogue: And in Who's Arms You're Gonna Be

72 hours after you’d left the Tower, your eyes hadn’t stopped glowing.

 

At first, you hadn’t thought anything of it. Emotions were still running high – so much so that even the faintest whiff of coffee, the blue of the sky, a purple pair of converse, made you think of your time with Clint, Tony, and Steve, and you could feel the warmth spread through your body. It didn’t help that not even 12 hours later, Clint was on your window sill.

 

Climbing in your windows, snatching your people up _indeed_.

 

But, honestly, you weren’t about to chase him away.

 

Now that things were in the open, it seemed that there was a huge weight that’d dropped from his shoulders. Rather than hiding behind the pretense of food, or random Avengers-themed gossip, he was content to just _be_ with you. He’d clambered into your bed, bruised and sleepy, and snuggled against you, his head nestled between your breasts. You’d both dozed off, your fingers tangled through his short, dirty blonde hair.

The next morning, sunlight filtering through your window, he’d awoken you with a kiss. The two of you made love – quiet, unhurried. He was doting, gentle - and even when his phone began to buzz incessantly, he hadn’t stopped.

 

So, okay, you’d expected to be riding that high just a _little_ longer.

 

Then Tony texted.

 

Then Steve called.

 

And they both had something very interesting to say.

 

They’d _felt_ it.

 

As Tony deftly put it, he knew that “‘Baby Bird’ had gotten the worm,” – so intensely that he had to take a cold shower. Steve, in his much more gentlemanly manner, stated he’d felt the same - and had been lucky that he’d been alone when he got the first few emotional shifts. That’s when it finally clicked to you – you still felt _warm_. A look in the mirror confirmed that not only your eyes were glowing – but YOU were glowing.

 

The next call you made was to Dr. McCoy.

___

 

“Girl – you’re going to have to repeat what you just said; Ah thank Ah had somethin’ crazy in mah ear,” Rogue gasped, as she swiped a hot wing from your plate. The two of you were in the rec room in the mansion, enjoying some terrible day time TV and take out hot wings.

 

Hank had been sweet enough to drop by (after your panicked phone call) your apartment to do a check up there. That way, you didn’t run the risk of hitting anyone with whatever you were putting off. Even though you tried to be as clinical as possible with explaining what happened, Hank’s face flushed red under his blue fur, turning his face purple.

 

“Well, my dear, there’s nothing physically different with you,” he’d said, not looking up from where he was rapidly taking notes, “but I think you should come with me back to the mansion for tests.”

 

And there you’d stayed for the past two weeks, amid rapid texts from Clint and Tony. Poor Steve – he’d called a few times, but you’d missed each and every one of them. By the time you’d gotten done with the barrage of tests and training, you’d been too exhausted to do anything else other than recognize that he’d called. Not like you’d been able to text Clint and Tony back, either.

 

“Yeah – I know, right?” You sucked wing sauce from your fingers. “Apparently having crazy sex with Clint, Tony, and Steve knocked open an empathetic connection. It’s so strong that they can feel spikes in my emotions without my consciously feeling it. He wants me to work with Jean to start to hone it.”

“Girl.” Rogue’s mouth dropped open.

 

You laughed, a little embarrassed. “Yeah – it’s pretty crazy. Jean seems to think that if I hone the connections enough, I could use the training for other aspects of my powers, but honestly, I never thought anything like this was possible. I’d been trying to avoid the whole feedback loop thing since I first experienced it. But this…” your face got dreamy.

 

You were pulled back to the real world by Rogue’s playful mock gagging. “You’re killin’ me! But for real,” she spoke as she bit into a wing, “that’s…I don’t even have words for it.”

 

“Neither do I,” you shrugged, sheepishly. “I feel bad, cause I haven’t had the chance to call any of the guys to tell them what’s been happening. I know they’ve been feeling it.” Your cheeks flushed. You didn’t have to tell Rogue that you’d also been _feeling_ them as well – and what they thought of you.

 

“So I guess the whole you and Clint thing is out the window, ain’t it?” There was the slightest hint of teasing envy in Rogue’s voice, and you bumped her with your elbow. God, you loved this woman.

 

“Somethin’ like that,” you sighed. “Lord knows this whole thing hasn’t changed how I feel, and honestly, they all like…just accept it. I can’t even say it’s weird as so much as it just feels _right_.” There really was no other way to put it. Though you’d been too tired to connect with them over the phone, before you went to bed each night, you delicately reached out through your connections, “speaking” to each man. You let them know you were okay. How you felt. And it’d been just as intense, as real, as if they were standing next to you.

 

“Ah’m too scared of you,” Rogue crowed, before setting down her picked bone on the plate. “Just run with it. And you know Ah’m here for you, if thangs get to be too much,” she gave you a knowledgeable look. You remembered her struggles with having others living in her head, a jumble of memories that weren’t hers, and you were silently thankful that it was emotions that you felt – and that they were as much yours as it was theirs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You arrived at the Tower with your baking caddy, smiling at the _déjà vu_ , only to be nearly tackled by Clint as he’d swept you off your feet. Steve was right behind him, his smile rivaling the sunny sky. Over thick slices of still warm coffee cake, you told the two of them about what you’d learned, how your powers had developed; why you hadn’t called. Tony had joined in, nearly at the end of your spiel, his dark eyes uncertain.

 

“Well, I’m just gonna say it. I thought I was getting between you and Steve and Clint. But that doesn’t sound the case anymore,” he said, taking a sip of coffee. He’d helped himself to a rather large slice of the cake – and watching him eat it filled you with joy.

“Not sure if it ever was,” murmured Clint, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I never really felt threatened, if that makes sense? Steve?”

 

Steve’s cheeks flushed peony pink. “I…erm…Well. It is what it is.” You could feel him struggling – trying to find the right words, trying to figure out how he actually felt.

 

“No pressure,” you breathed, placing a hand over Steve’s. “This connection doesn’t have to be anything more than what you want it to be. I don’t expect anything from you guys – I just needed you to know what’s going on. Truth to tell, I don’t really have the words, either. I just…feel comfort, knowing that I can feel you. Knowing that you’re there, even when you’re not physically there, if that makes sense.” You flushed, embarrassed. You weren’t so good with this sort of thing. “But, yeah,” you suddenly added, moving your hand from Steve’s, “I’ll be working with Jean at the school to gain better control, so if you feel weird spikes between then and now, I’m sorry in advance…”

 

Tony’s eyes were steady on you – before he crossed the small kitchen area, and suddenly, wrapped you in his arms.

 

There hadn’t been much need for words after that.

 

And now, here you were, still in your rumpled tank top and jean shorts, wedged between all three men, on Tony’s ridiculous comfortable couch.

 

“Is this ever going to go away?” Steve’s voice was tentative, his fingers laced in yours.

 

“I hope not,” sighed Clint, his face buried in the side of your neck.

 

Tony was silent, your back against his chest. His arms were settled around your waist, cupped against the gentle curve of your stomach. When it came to actual feelings, Tony wasn’t a talker. Instead, you felt him take in a deep breath, his bare skin against yours, and his lips pressed against the nape of your neck. In the small gesture, you’d felt him open up to you, though you hadn’t asked, and let his feelings pour through. The fact that he was always so _grateful_ was enough to nearly bring you to tears, no matter how many times it happened.

 

Quite awash in him, you took in a deep breath, and titled your head back, tenderly knocking the crown of your head against his chin. He huffed a laugh; you could feel it more than you could hear it.

 

“I dunno,” you finally offered. “Jean’s worked with me so I can close it off, so it won’t be as intense-”

 

“No. Never.” Steve’s voice was sharp, so much so that it startled you. “I need this.” He straightened up, his blue eyes looking intensely into yours. “To feel something that’s real.” He lifted your hand to his lips, and kissed it. You could feel the rush from him, the unyielding fear of being trapped in the ice, of waking up, a stranger in a strange land, and how the simple connection between the two of you, born out of something as small as a shared meal and conversation, had provided him with a lifeline.

 

Without another word, you could feel the same feelings leech into you from Tony, from Clint. And this time, you couldn’t stop the tears. Clumsily, you wiped at them, not wanting to jostle yourself from the nest of these men.

 

“So are you going to be a second string Avenger now? Pretty sure I could get you a room set up here in the Tower.” You could feel Tony smiling into your neck. Pushing back into him, you shook your head.

 

“Nah – my home’s at the mansion. And I gotta get used to this new…thing. Besides, Rogue told me that she heard from Jubilee who heard it from Kitty who maybe was eavesdropping on Logan who was talking to Ororo who’d heard it from Scott that they may want to try me out in the field with the X-Men. Not with the main team, of course, but you know, it’s something. And probably not even true because Jubilee loves to talk.” Brief spikes of emotion flooded through you – worry, fear, anxiety. Pride.

 

“In the field…?” Clint’s voice was quiet. “You mean out there facing…” He trailed off. You knew that he didn’t have to finish his sentence. Though a part of you found it a bit insulting, you quickly quieted those thoughts. The events of the X-Men had definitely taken a back seat to the antics of the Avengers lately, and while Hydra was a formidable foe, you supposed there was something extra frightening about being up against other mutants - from a master of magnetism to a master DNA manipulator. Besides, they’d only known you in the capacity of a teacher - not as a leather wearing, take names and kickass front line member.

 

You tilted your head back into Clint, kissing his cheek. “I know. But honestly, this is something I’ve wanted for a long time. But that’s even assuming that I’ll be picked to begin with.” You kissed the tip of his nose, before settling back into Tony, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s all gossip around the school. But I do need to work on this connection - I can’t run the risk of having some spike that distracts you guys while you’re out on the field.”

 

“So no masturbating unless we’re around,” Tony added.

 

You felt the flush of heat rise to your cheeks. “Tony, I’m not going to stop masturbating because I’m not here.”

 

“Just saying. This could be a legitimate safety hazard.”

 

“Tony.” Steve was exasperated.

 

“I know you were thinking it.”

 

“Not until after you said something!” Steve sputtered. Laughing, you laid across them all, your head in Steve’s lap, your feet in Clint’s.

 

“Okay, so, maybe she could give us a head’s up? Stark, you could have a special phone line just for it. And then we can be excused for however long.” Clint’s face lit up. “It’s genius.”

 

“Pretty sure Hydra’s not going to let us take a wank break because Honeybee gets all hot and bothered. I mean, did any of you guys notice some of the X-Men? Total. Studs.”

 

“I’mma kick the shit out of you when I get up, Tony,” and you flopped bonelessly down against the men, making it clear that you weren’t planning on going anywhere any time soon.

 

“Don’t think anyone would argue with that, (Y/N),” said Steve, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's official - I'm gonna consider this the "true" ending of "Avengers for Dinner."


End file.
